


By Faith Alone [the sola fide remix]

by sara_holmes



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Do not post to other sites, His Dark Materials Inspired, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Remix, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24721597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_holmes/pseuds/sara_holmes
Summary: Bucky's daemon knows full well what he wants, but it's going to take a while for his head to get onboard with his heart.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 80
Kudos: 485
Collections: Winterhawk Remix 2020





	By Faith Alone [the sola fide remix]

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [sola fide](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17239715) by [badacts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badacts/pseuds/badacts). 



> This was a joy to write. Bee created a wonderful universe out of two worlds I love very much, and of course I immediately wanted to go and play. I hope I did it justice!

Just because no one had ever seen her, didn't mean the Winter Soldier’s daemon didn't exist. Just because Calytrix had spent years forced out of sight and out of mind didn't mean she was any less when she finally came back. It wasn’t as if she’d been cut away from her human - they were luckier than those poor bastards at least. Even though it had been heart-rending, the uncertainty and agony of the silence and distance had been better than  _ that _ . Being permanently apart from her Bucky was unimaginable; it was harder to contemplate than death.

She remembered the day they were finally reunited like crystal clear glass; nothing vague or blurred about it. He’d been bruised and battered and somehow weakly smiling as she’d limped over to him, pressing her cold nose into his hand. She'd known the difference instantly; he was no longer the soldier, the shell of her human. He was  _ Bucky _ again. He’d sunk to his knees, mismatched hands clutching her white fur. 

“Hello, wolf.”

“I have a name,” she’d told him as they huddled together. “We both have names. I know you want to use them again.”

He buried his face in her fur, thwarting her attempts to lick the tear tracks from his cheeks. “You look different,” he choked.

“So do you,” she said, but it didn’t matter that she had changed, and he had even more so. When they were together everything was right, mind and soul beginning to balance out once again. 

* * *

Bucky didn't just look different. He moved differently too, thought differently, felt differently. He wasn’t so changed that he was a new person, but Calytrix could tell that the way he fit into the world was almost jumbled up, like a puzzle with some of the pieces turned round the opposite way.  She wasn’t sure it would do either of them any good to spend more time examining how they weren’t how they used to be, but luckily her need for company and Bucky’s need to stay safe and away from  _ them _ had led them back to a pair of familiar faces, other people she could watch and observe.

Steve and Isolde.

Steve with the determination and justice of ten men. Isolde with her rumbling roar that hurt your ears and buzzed in your chest. They were in the same boat as she and Bucky were; the same yet different. Calytrix thought that that twisted bit of shared experience was probably the reason that Bucky was finally able to make contact with the pair. She was glad for it, though a part of her wondered why Isolde still looked the same when the rest of them didn't.

It seemed unfair, somehow, but right. Now Steve’s human form matched his daemon - not literally of course, but in that way where other people saw them together and sensed the rightness of the pairing, rather than frowning over the puzzle of the scrawny, sickly man with a daemon bigger than he was.

“Stop worrying,” Isolde told her through a great leonine yawn as they laid in the lounge of Steve's apartment in Avengers' Tower. She blinked, amber eyes on the open bedroom doorway, through which they could hear their humans quietly conversing. If Isolde had noticed how she had to be much closer to the door than Calytrix did, she was being kind enough to not mention it. “So you’re a little different. It doesn’t matter. What you should be worrying about is finding a pack.” 

Caltrix would have rolled her eyes if she were human. “So literal.”

“You didn’t change completely,” Isolde said. She shifted, clearly restless, turning in a full cat-circle before flopping back to the carpet. “So you still want-”

“I know,” Calytrix said quickly. Not for the first time, she felt a flicker of resentment at how easy her form was to read. She’d barely settled before people had started congratulating Bucky on his now-obvious career path as a soldier. She had often envied Isolde - the general response when people met a lion daemon was a resounding _what the fuck_. People were too shocked or confused to develop any preconceived notions about her human. 

In the bedroom, they heard Bucky’s voice rise in agitation. Calytrix felt it too; an anxious ache deep in her bones. Eyes cast down, belly touching the floor, she crept across the hallway carpet, butting Isolde’s jaw until she got the message and raised her massive head, allowing Calytrix to crawl beneath, huddled against her chest.

“I said a pack, not a pride,” Isolde teased but she set her chin on Calytrix’s spine, a heavy and comforting weight. “Do you want to meet the rest of the team?”

“Am I allowed to say no?”

“Of course, but we both know what Steve will say if you do,” Isolde dipped her head and licked absent-mindedly at Calytrix’s scruff. “Tell Bucky to give Steve a hug. He’s going to tackle him before long.”

“Can’t you stop him?”

“I can stop Steve some of the time but not all of the time.” Isolde yawned again. “Anyway, it’s nice to be close. Even Bucky needs that.”

“Yeah,” Calytrix said, lifting her head to lick at one of Isolde’s paws, a silent thank you that she was sure Isolde understood.

* * *

Steve and Isolde got their way of course. Isolde threatened to carry Calytrix like a cub to the lounge, and Steve threatened to carry Bucky over his shoulder. 

“I’m too big for you to carry,” Calytrix said, teeth bared.

“We’ll see,” Isolde said ominously, so Caltrix and Bucky quickly albeit resentfully made tracks to the communal lounge. Staying with Steve was one thing; accepting that he lived in a shared space with the rest of the Avengers was something else entirely. Calytrix had heard the barking and hissing and cawing and had once seen a pair of yellow cat eyes staring through the open apartment door, but she'd yet to see any of them face to face. 

Bucky was on edge, fingers white-knuckled in Calytrix’s scruff as they walked in, following Steve and Isolde. She was expecting a bird, a cat, the something else that Steve’s friend Wanda kept close. She wasn't expecting a  _ dog _ . How had she missed that? So many new sounds and smells and she'd managed to completely miss the tell-tale presence of a fellow canine. 

She felt her back arching, fur bristling.  _ They  _ had often had dog daemons: biddable, trainable, followers. This dog was slightly different - bigger, more intelligent and altogether friendlier. She seemed less a follower and more...loyal. However, Calytrix barely noticed underneath her instinctive need to challenge, to establish rank. Bucky had always been the biggest and best soldier and she would help defend that position without a second thought.

It didn't help that while the owner of the dog - a tall, sandy-blond man with broad shoulders and bandaged fingers - was chatting to Steve and Bucky in a relaxed, non-threatening manner, the dog itself wouldn’t stop staring. Her head was cocked slightly and her deep brown eyes were fixed on Calytrix, and even though she was belly-to-floor, head-on-paws, curious rather than confrontational, Calytrix did not like it one bit. She felt her lips pulling back over her teeth, hackles raising as she stared back. Her anxiety was enough to overwhelm Bucky’s, though he spent his time perpetually anxious so it took him a while to notice.

“ _ Calytrix _ .”

She jumped, unused to Bucky’s tone sounding so much like a command. She looked away from the damn dog and pressed against Bucky’s side, ignoring Isolde’s questioning gaze. Bucky reached down to stroke her head and she licked at his fingers, feeling her body relax even as she wondered what the dog found so fucking fascinating about her anyway.

* * *

She tried to ignore the dog and the human that went with it, but it was a battle that she lost very quickly. Every time they were in the same space the dog would just watch her, and no amount of snarling or bared teeth would make her  _ stop. _

Damn German Shepherds. Loyal, yes, but stubborn to a fault, too. 

Eventually, Calytrix found that she had given up on threatening the dog, and had stopped contemplating a full teeth-based assault to make her back off. Instead, she found herself watching back, meeting the gaze that seemed warmer and more comforting every day. 

* * *

Even though most humans and daemons balked at the idea of being in separate rooms, Calytrix and Bucky had been through enough - and trusted each other enough - to sometimes spend time further apart than most could. Calytrix would sometimes wander up to the roof to smell the air and stare up at the moon while Bucky stayed inside, though more often she would spend her time sunbathing in the lounge while Bucky sat reading in the cooler privacy of the spare room.  Most of the time no-one bothered her, but they were sharing space with two beings who had a pretty compulsive need to interfere. Case in point; she was nearly completely asleep when she found her doze interrupted by a familiar rumble. 

“So you’re friends with Sadie now?” Isolde asked, wandering into the room. Calytrix immediately got up and vacated the patch of sun on the floor, allowing Isolde to flop over onto her side, claws unsheathing as she stretched out.

For a moment, Calytrix thought about paying dumb. She knew damn well that Sadie was the name of the sleek black and tan German Shepherd that had taken to watching her every move. She didn't think Isolde would buy it - or be amused by it either. 

“No,” Calytrix said, hopping up onto the couch.

Isolde lifted her head, fixing Calytrix with a searching look. “I know Bucky’s in denial. I didn’t think you were too.” 

Calytrix growled at her, a warning to back off. Sometimes Isolde accepted Calytrix’s growls for what they were, but not today; her ears went back and the thicker fur on her neck stood up slightly, mimicking a mane. Annoyed but sufficiently told, Calytrix quit the growling but couldn’t resist baring her teeth, though she soon quit that too when Steve wandered in, yawning and sleep-rumpled. “Hey Cal,” Steve headed towards the coffee maker. “Bucky’s up then. Think he wants coffee?”

“Always,” Calytrix said, ignoring the way Isolde was looking at her through lidded eyes, aura all too smug and knowing. She knew damn well that Isolde was still determined for her to bond with the others, to start building something resembling a pack, but it was a futile endeavour. As much as Calytrix knew the damn overgrown cat was right, as much as she actually  _ wanted _ to spend more time with others, there was no convincing Bucky. He was still too wary, too closed off, too ashamed, and until they both wanted it, Calytrix would have to deal with the loneliness. 

* * *

So, it was either go at Bucky's pace and make progress some time in the next millenia, or use some of her determination to force his hand. She would never say it out loud but she sometimes suspected that she was a lot stronger than Bucky; because of what he'd been through, his mind was fragile and in a constant state of turmoil, waves of anger and sadness laced with memories of pain. His fear and shame manifested itself in doubt, leaving Calytrix to be their driving force towards something new. 

It wasn't easy. Sometimes she felt an overbearing weariness and sadness that had her curling up with her tail over her muzzle, wanting nothing more than to fade away. At her core though, Calytrix knew she was never going to give up. Not on herself and certainly not on her Bucky. 

That night, she hopped up onto the bed beside Bucky, butting him in the chin and receiving a string of muttered words for her trouble. “Wake up,” she said. “I want to talk to you.”

“I want to sleep,” Bucky scowled. 

“No, you want to be friends with that Clint man,” Calytrix said, and felt how Bucky went tense.

“No I don’t. Friends are dangerous.”

“You’re friends with Steve.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not enough,” Calytrix said, thinking of dark brown and tan fur, deep warm eyes. “I want more friends than just Steve and Isolde. We want a pack.”

“We do not,” Bucky snapped back and rolled over, putting his back to her. Calytrix pawed at his shoulder and was shocked when he swatted back at her with his metal hand. “Quit it, I’m tired.”

She sat back on her haunches, tempted to start up howling just to really piss him off. In the end she just curled up with her side pressed to his back, nose tucked under her tail. It felt awful to be so at odds with her human; it felt even worse to not know if they would ever feel properly in sync again.

* * *

Despite quite obviously wanting to be alone most of the time, some days they had no choice but to deal with the others. Bucky had been made to join Steve and his friends in the Avengers' briefing room and Calytrix  _ hated _ it. The humans weren't her concern; they were Bucky’s domain, and she knew he had enough skill to deal with them if necessary. The corresponding daemons, however, were driving her crazy. So much, that she took shelter under the table, back pressed to Bucky’s shins. Even Isolde was irritating her, just by being so big and calm and confident. Calytrix was big too, but she was as far from calm and confident as you could get. 

“Hey.”

Calytrix stiffened as a familiar face appeared; warm brown eyes over a dark snout, pointed ears cocked forwards. The damn dog was at least smart enough to have only wiggled partway under the table; any closer and Calytrix would have nipped her nose, or one of those unreasonably large paws.

“I’m Sadie,” the dog said, so quietly that the humans had no hope of hearing. Not that they would anyway, what with the damn noise that Tony’s daemon was making. It was like she was making up for being small by filling the space she didn't occupy with sound. It was easy to understand, Calytrix supposed. It wasn't often that people had daemons too big to pick up, and in this room there were three.

“I know,” Calytrix replied, equally as quietly. “And your human is Clint.”

She heard the way Sadie’s tail thumped against the carpet a couple of times at the mention of her human. “Yeah,” Sadie said. “I’m sorry about him.”

Calytrix just stared. “Why?”

“It was a joke,” Sadie said. “Never mind. How’s Barnes settling in?”

“His name is Bucky,” Calytrix said without thinking. She huffed, annoyed at herself  _ and _ at Sadie. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Not sure,” Sadie said. “You’re interesting. Besides, we could team up against the cats in the house. I was outnumbered before.”

“Don’t let Isolde hear you calling her a cat,” Calytrix said, and it was hard not to feel pleased at the way Sadie’s nose wrinkled up, her tail thumping happily against the floor again. 

* * *

“I think that man is smarter than he lets on,” Calytrix said, pointedly stepping on Bucky’s thighs as she about-turned on the bed, flopping down onto his legs. He huffed, of course he did, but made no effort to push her off. 

“Who, Clint?" he asked, pulling his pillow up his back so he could lean back more comfortably. "The man’s an idiot.”

Calytrix thought about the man's crooked smile, the breadth of his shoulders. She thought about dropped coffee grounds, stumbled over furniture, the play of his fingers over a bowstring. That was certainly different; none of _them_ had ever used a weapon so unusual. She thought about the expression in Clint's blue eyes, so different in colour to those of his daemon but filled with the same oddly knowing depths. 

“I think he’s pretending. Sadie isn’t stupid.”

Bucky paused, obviously thinking about it. “Maybe they’re just different.”

“No,” Calytrix said. “He’s putting up a front. You should ask him why.”

“You should just drop it."

"I don't want to."

Bucky sighed, rubbing at his face. He looked so pale in the moonlight that filtered in through the crack in the blinds. Pale and fragile. "I hate arguing with you," he said. "It aches."

"Well if you listened to me we wouldn't be arguing," she said. 

"I said no, Cal," Bucky said, tired. "Go to sleep."

He closed his eyes, still sat up. Calytrix knew he could sleep like that, but she felt him awake into the small hours of the morning. 

* * *

Calytrix did not take any notice of Bucky's no. In fact, when they were invited for dinner with the team the next day, she didn't sit in her usual spot under the table by Bucky's feet. Instead, she parked herself stiffly next to Sadie who was sprawled out on the rug. She briefly lifted her head as Caltrix sat down and her tail thumped a few times but other than that said nothing. 

Calytrix found herself in a staring match with Bucky this time around. He didn't seem remotely amused.  _ I know what you're trying to do, _ his gaze seemed to say, brittle and fractious. 

_ Yes _ , she thought as she gazed back.  _ I know what I'm trying to do. Now do what you need to do.  _

* * *

"Calytrix." 

She pushed her nose into Bucky's trembling hand, whining. She felt terrible, like a tiny pup lost in a snowstorm. She knew Bucky didn't feel much better either. He'd tried to go to sleep hours ago and had lasted barely an hour before getting up. Nothing had worked to distract him and she'd sensed his mounting agitation as the long, dark hours of the night stretched on. 

It had been a long while since he'd been this bad. Weeks.

"Shh, it's okay," he said, swallowing hard. His real hand tugged gently at her ears. "Come on."

She stood up at Bucky's quiet command and followed him out of the apartment. They slipped down the corridors in silence, heading to the communal lounge. It was familiar behaviour, something he often tried when he couldn't sleep or felt trapped in the apartment. At least this time he'd taken her with him instead of blindly staggering away alone, drawing her after him like a forgotten shadow. 

She stayed close, feeling how unsettled he was. He tried the couch but couldn't cope with the open space all around, so sat himself in the corner back to the wall. Trembling, she wedged in behind him, the pair of them taking up as small a space as possible. 

His eyes were on the doors but still, she heard them coming first. The sound of footsteps was soon followed by familiar scents: Clint and Sadie. Relief rippled through her and she immediately felt more grounded, less lost. Part of her wanted to get up, to go straight over and greet Sadie and by extension, Clint, but she wanted Bucky to make the first move. 

He didn't, which was disappointing. However, when Clint spoke to him he managed to respond, voice rough and grating. The scant attempt at conversation was like a faint light in a storm; it was fleeting and precarious and not enough. Calytrix ached with the need for more, to go closer. 

Eventually, she gave in. 

Without second guessing or asking Bucky's permission, she pushed out from behind him and loped over to the couch, jumping up and immediately curling into a ball, her white coat pressed to Sadie's black. Sadie barely reacted, carrying on dozing like this was something they did every day. Calytrix could sense the surprise from Clint though it didn't seem like he minded that Calytrix was all up in his daemon's personal space. Even if he did, Sadie was clearly content to have her there, so there she would stay. 

_ Come on, Bucky _ , she silently implored.  _ Look. They're safe. They're pack. _

She waited for what felt like an age. Time comparable only to the long days and weeks without Bucky at her side, the time they had been forced apart.

Then finally, she heard it. 

She cracked open her eyes and watched as her human, her soldier, her Bucky uncurled from the corner and took his first hesitant steps towards Clint. Towards a new beginning for himself. Towards something that Calytrix just knew would be good. 

She relaxed. For the first time in forever, she felt herself slot back in line with Bucky, their wants and needs and desires finally settling back together, those puzzle pieces finally aligning. 

Just before she closed her eyes, she noticed the pleased look on Clint's face. 

_ And so it begins _ , she thought, settling against Sadie and relaxing into slumber. 


End file.
